


i've been craving for days to misbehave

by taekai



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Bondage, Comeplay, D/s themes, Dirty Talk, M/M, PWP, Rimming, Snowballing, Spanking, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 18:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7812346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taekai/pseuds/taekai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>taemin is somewhat of a glutton for punishment. jongin can be generous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've been craving for days to misbehave

**Author's Note:**

> a hideously long pwp fic i wrote for jessica's birthday a year ago, originally posted over at my lj. comments make my crops grow and feed my starving children, if you leave one i'll love u

a slick few strands of hair have fallen out of place from his side-part and into his eyes, and jongin reaches up to push them back, then wipes the hair gel from his fingers onto a makeup-stained cloth left on the table. the stylist in charge of his makeup and hair today isn’t talkative, and neither is baekhyun reclining in the chair next to him, so he keeps one earphone in, the other dangling off the shell of his ear while she works. as she’s finishing lining his eyes, he feels his phone vibrate in his front pocket, and he blinks against the harsh dressing room lights before he coaxes it from his jeans just far enough to read the message preview on the lock screen.  
  
_busy?_ is what it says, from taemin. jongin pulls the device out, shifts it in the palm of his hand and taps in the pass code to unlock it. single-handedly, he types, _prep now, performance in 40 min._  
  
there’s no reply to that, but a _coming over later?_ pops up on his phone just as the display is beginning to dim. the stylist is busy behind him, putting away pencils and eyeshadow palettes, so jongin pauses with his thumb hovering over the keyboard, contemplating. an impulsive, instinctive response would be _yeah, of course_ , free of hesitation, but what jongin wants is often not all that relevant unless their schedules permit it to be, and finding gaps in his to squeeze visits into is trickier than he’d like in the middle of promotions. he types up a quick message, without promises made that he’s not sure he can keep, to send before the woman’s attention can be redirected to him. _i’ll try, don’t know yet_  
  
his gaze stays glued to his reflection as finishing touches are done to his hair, the style preserved somewhat with generous amounts of spray though it’ll undoubtedly still need to be touched up after the first stage, and he almost thinks he’s received taemin’s last message by the time his phone buzzes to life in his lap again. glancing down, he sees the notification for what isn’t just a text but a picture message, and it’s pretty unmistakeable what the image he’s received is of even in the smaller preview -- the curve of taemin’s hip, plenty of smoothly shaven skin where fingers tug the waistband of his boxers down, the shape of his half-hard cock easy to make out -- and jongin fumbles to shield the screen from view under the table so fast he almost drops it.  
  
_try hard, ok? ㅋㅋㅋ_ is all that accompanies it, a caption or explanation of sorts, and jongin feels his face heat up under layers of carefully applied makeup. his stylist seems too busy with his hair to look anywhere else, thankfully, but jongin still waits until he’s sure she’s turned around to open the picture for a quick look at the full-size. he wipes his just slightly sweaty palm off on his pants before sending, _do you want the coordi to see your dick?_  
  
barely half a minute later, taemin replies, _you’d never let her_ , and while definitely not untrue, jongin doesn’t get to think of a response before his phone vibrates against his thigh a second time to alert him to another incoming picture message. this time, the shot is of taemin kneeling atop a familiar duvet (navy blue wide stripes, the bedclothes haven’t been changed since jongin last slept in that bed), phone held out in front of him as he’s stretched out in a manner that's nearly catlike, upper body low against the mattress, weight supported on the extended arm for balance and hips raised up. the angle and his position offers a good view of his free hand, palm flat on his abdomen and fingers disappearing under the waistband of his boxers, and his tongue peeks out between parted puffy lips, half-lidded yet bright eyes staring into the camera -- it sends a rather intense wave of particular heat through jongin, one that goes right to his dick, and it’s only with effort that he manages to keep his breathing steady. he sinks a little deeper into the chair as he types, thighs sprawling in a way he aims to make seem casual, though it’s really to make up for how tightly his jeans are hugging his crotch. _i’m wearing tight pants taemin, don’t_  
  
“what’s that look all about?” comes baekhyun’s voice to his left, and jongin lets his screen lock, then looks over to find him eyeing him -- not curious, no, more amused at jongin’s expense, like he already knows the answer to the question before it’s left his mouth.  
  
“what?” jongin asks, deadpan, but what the look on his face (hopefully) isn’t betraying now baekhyun has evidently already seen enough of, because he imitates jongin’s expression to the extent of his abilities with an exaggerated, horribly unflattering bite of his bottom lip. jongin is very tempted to smack him, is something like halfway out of his seat on his way to do so, but to reach he’d have to actually get to his feet and his dick is pushing rather uncomfortably against his zipper, so he changes his mind even as baekhyun expects it, shoulder raised in anticipation of jongin’s fist colliding with it.  
  
his phone buzzes again. _i didn’t ask what you were wearing~ but if you wanted to sext me that bad, you could’ve just said so._ jongin resists shaking his head at the screen, turns the device over in his hand a few times, then sends, _you get way too cheeky when you’re turned on._  
  
likely something that’d only encourage taemin to do, if possible, worse, jongin is quick to set his phone to flight mode so that no response can be sent his way until after their performance is over. he’s got thirty minutes to get the pictures off his retina before he has to go on stage; maybe counting backwards from one hundred will bore him enough to kill the mood for him.  


 

-

  
  
motorcycle rides in pouring rain do beat walking, but not by much. jongin's hoodie clings cold and wet to his back and shoulders, and he's halfway out of it before taemin has even shut the door behind him, helmet dumped beside taemin’s array of ugly slippers and sneakers that jongin swears he’d fit half of his foot in, at most.  
  
"i stand by what i said," taemin says, slowly ruffling jongin's hair where it's matted down against his forehead from the helmet. "you should've gotten a car."  
  
jongin gives taemin a look as he smoothes his bangs back down. "you'll change your mind when i let you take it for a ride."  
  
taemin hums as if contemplating this while watching jongin proceed to rid himself of the wettest of his clothing, then hang it on top of one of taemin’s jackets. it’s unlikely to dry like this before jongin has to go, meaning he’ll be leaving it there probably never to be seen again (clothes, sweaters in particular, have a tendency to somehow become _theirs_ as opposed to jongin’s if left at taemin’s place, and at this point they might as well be sharing a closet) but the hoodie isn’t a favorite, and jongin won’t miss it much, anyway. he’s actually pretty sure that the loose shirt hanging off his boyfriend’s shoulders belongs to him, too, and he can’t claim to be anything but fond of how it looks on taemin’s thinner frame, collar hanging low, too-long sleeves bunched up yet continuously sliding down to swallow up taemin’s hands.  
  
“let’s order yangnyeom chicken,” taemin suggests, giving the pockets of his sweatpants a few pats in an attempt to locate his phone, but slender yet strong fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him closer.  
  
“no,” jongin says, and though he throws jongin a mildly offended look, there’s a not-so-subtle twitch to the corners of taemin’s mouth and the expression on his face upon having his idea shot down isn’t really one of surprise -- apparently he’s not as oblivious to the trouble he’s in as he’d initially acted. his eyes shift upwards to seek jongin’s without reciprocation, because he finds himself yanked into jongin’s arms and spun to face away from him, knocking into jongin’s broader frame slightly before he can regain his footing. jongin’s grip tightens on his wrist, a firm but short squeeze, and he can feel taemin’s pulse against his thumb where it’s pressing, just below the heel of his hand.  
  
taemin’s fingers grab at jongin’s forearm when it’s hooked around him, and he half-walks, half-stumbles as jongin urges him forward, caging him against his chest and leading him across the living room, towards the door to his bedroom. taemin is warm, body heat jongin always sorely misses feeling against his own whenever they’re apart for too long and isn’t above stealing from in this state, near shivery in his damp t-shirt, and his legs bump against the backs of taemin’s when his step is too slow, almost sending him staggering. “ _yah_ ,” taemin exclaims, a lame complaint, especially as he has to put the back of his hand to his mouth to keep a grin suppressed, and jongin drops his wrist, instead bringing his hand up to curl below taemin’s chin. fingertips dig in under his jaw, and taemin’s laugh is nervously breathy, but it’s cut off to give way for a shallow exhale as he tips his head back.  
  
“you knew this was coming,” jongin says, brow inching upwards, and he’s close enough for his lips to brush the back of taemin’s ear as he speaks, breath tickling the sensitive skin behind it. he can feel taemin’s throat work as he swallows against the light pressure he’s applying with his fingers -- he’s not squeezing, just holding, his palm barely more than rests on taemin’s throat, letting him feel the mere weight of it, but he doesn’t have to do any more than that when it’s simply the knowledge that he _could_ that does it for them both.  
  
“they were good pictures,” taemin tries, posture stiff to keep his neck straight even as he leans back a bit into jongin’s chest, but true as that may be jongin isn’t very impressed -- it just earns taemin a swift slap on the ass, playful for the most part and not more than a warning, though hard enough to make his already slightly labored breath catch. “not the point.”  
  
jongin listens to taemin’s hitchy inhale before releasing his neck, thumbing his adam’s apple as his hand slides down and drops. he runs it along the outside of taemin’s forearm, then grabs onto his wrist once more, pulling to get him walking again and using that grip to lead him ahead of him through the doorway. taemin sways across the threshold, and jongin steers him away before his arm can bump the door frame.  
  
“fuck my mouth, then,” taemin suggests offhandedly, something that he hopes will sound like a rather sweet deal to jongin, and jongin holds back a snort as he maneuvers him over to the foot of his unmade bed. “right. maybe if rewarding you was the idea.”  
  
taemin smells clean, like he’s fresh out of the shower, and his hair feels almost a little damp at the neck when jongin buries his nose against it, inhaling, then leans down further to mouth at his nape. the blinds in taemin’s bedroom are shut, though whether to allow him to wander through it naked after showering or in preparation for jongin coming over, for _this_ , jongin can only guess. taemin is about to reply to him, but any word on his tongue is gone when jongin reaches down and palms him through his sweatpants, fingers dipping low between his thighs to cup all of him in his hand, and he rubs until taemin cants his hips towards it -- he’s already hard, to no surprise for jongin, and the sound he makes is soft yet loud, only slightly muffled by his closed mouth.  
  
“you’re so eager,” jongin comments, finding the strings on taemin’s pants and winding one around his finger, then tugging repeatedly until the knot comes undone. they almost slide off taemin’s slim hips without any further help once it’s been loosened, especially when taemin steps up on his tiptoes to seek friction against jongin’s hand -- he tries to turn his head and tilt his chin up, mouth hanging slightly open in a wordless request for a kiss, but jongin doesn’t grant it, instead moving to drop down to sit on the bed. the mattress dips beneath his weight, and he brings taemin with him by the arm so he can firmly pull him down across his lap. taemin topples rather ungracefully with a quiet noise of surprise, only catching himself with his forearms on the bed when he’s already sprawled over jongin’s lap, and as he tries to raise himself back up jongin fists a hand in his hair to hold him down, the other sliding up the back of his thigh to grab at his ass.  
  
it only seems to sink in for taemin where this is really going when jongin’s fingers hook in the waistband of his underwear, yanking them down along with his sweats, and he looks mildly mortified, but he can’t pretend his abdomen doesn’t tighten from the rush of arousal that goes through him almost at once. “jongin-ah,” he says, breath leaving him in an embarrassed warm huff as jongin works the elastic past the curve of his ass, then down his legs, and he can feel his face grow hot already just from this -- the position he’s in, hips raised and bare ass turned up, and the weight of jongin’s arm is pressed to the backs of his thighs to keep him still as he runs his hand over his cheeks, fingers digging in and squeezing.  
  
“you didn't expect to get off easy, did you?” jongin’s thumb nudges between them, parts them for no other reason than to _look_ , and taemin exhales slowly before he shivers both at that and the sensation of cool air on his exposed skin, chilly everywhere jongin isn’t touching. “hoped,” taemin corrects, voice tinier than he’d intended, and the warmth of jongin’s hand disappears completely for a moment, almost long enough for taemin’s growing anticipation to become too much. he wants to throw a glance over his shoulder, but he manages to gather the patience to keep his cheek pressed to the mattress, and he’s thankful to have done so when jongin’s palm is brought down firmly on his ass -- the resounding smack of it is as loud as the gasp pulled from his throat, and taemin tenses up from the impact, his skin stinging, a prickling warm pain that blossoms outwards. he barely gets to brace himself for the second slap before jongin delivers it, harder than the first but on his other asscheek, and taemin sucks in a shaky, quick breath, biting down on a low whimper.  
  
jongin takes a moment to admire the mark forming across the pale skin of taemin’s ass, pink and faint but in the clear shape of a handprint, then runs a soothing palm over it. he untangles his fingers from taemin’s hair to instead rub the sides of his neck, a gesture meant to reassure, and taemin’s exhale turns into a moan; his face burns, and he buries it against the bed, hands grasping loosely at the sheets. the third and fourth slaps to taemin’s ass both land lower, just above where the curve of it meets his thighs, and it hurts a little worse there than the first two did -- taemin breathes hard, digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but his cock is close to aching and he can’t help but squirm on jongin’s lap for fleeting friction against it.  
  
“if you’re trying to get on my good side, lying isn’t going to do it,” jongin says; he can feel taemin’s cock dig into his thigh, knows how much he’s enjoying this without having to watch taemin wiggle on his lap, and he brings his hand down for the fifth, sixth, and seventh slaps in rapid succession, alternating between striking taemin’s left and right cheek. a whine builds in taemin throat, getting higher in pitch with each hit until his mouth falls open, and he buries his face deeper into the sheets to stifle it before he can get too loud. careful and holding back, maybe, jongin puts less force into each hit following that -- a series of lighter slaps leads only to taemin squirming even more, and he’s panting quietly over the sound of jongin’s palm hitting skin over and over, making an attempt to pretend his dick doesn’t throb between his legs with every one. he’s rubbing himself against jongin’s jean-clad thigh slowly, trying to make it less apparent than it probably is, and he turns his face to huff out, “i’ll be good, i promise.”  
  
“what was that?” jongin asks, leaning in and down over his clothed back, closer to taemin as though he didn’t hear him the first time, then raises his hand again for another slap. taemin whimpers throatily, and his voice is a near whine when he repeats, “i’ll be good, _jongin_ \--”  
  
“you’re so hard you’re leaking.” jongin’s hand dips between taemin’s thighs as he straightens back up, and his fingertip applies almost cruel pressure to the slick head of his cock, making taemin’s hips jerk and a choked moan well up in his throat. his ass is turning a shade of bright pink, a pretty contrast to his fair thighs and back, and jongin flexes his fingers; his palm stings a tad too just like he’s very sure taemin’s sore cheeks do by now, but he barely notices, all of his attention fully absorbed by taemin. “you really want me to believe you don’t love this?”  
  
“... i-i wanted it, wanted you to punish me,” taemin breathes out, a rushed confession he only gives up when he feels jongin lift his hand. he’s close to certain his flushed face must be nearly the same color as the cheeks of his ass at this point; he can only imagine how it looks, it stings pretty bad, but jongin would never hit hard enough to bruise him, so it’ll lessen and fade before long. he’s never used anything but his hand on him the times they’ve done this, something taemin is perfectly happy with -- the gratification the act offers them is a lot less from any pain inflicted than just dominance, and perhaps even more of a focal point than that is the enjoyment taemin has found that he gets out of a moderate dose of embarrassment.  
  
“yeah, that’s what i thought.” jongin’s hand is back to cupping one of his cheeks, smoothing over the reddened skin, and his fingers dip between them to rub across taemin’s entrance. taemin gnaws at his lip, hoping to feel the tip of one worked inside, but instead jongin shifts underneath him to be able to reach into the pocket of his jeans. anticipating quite the protest from taemin, jongin’s arm is returned to the backs of his legs for him to lean his weight on, and he applies pressure on his neck where his left hand rests already -- taemin hears the click of jongin’s phone unlocking, attempts to turn his head to look at him, and sure enough the second it occurs to him what’s going on he begins to wriggle around and squirm, trying to pull himself off his boyfriend’s lap while jongin waits for the camera application to load. “ _jongin!_ ”  
  
“next time you’re being a tease when i have schedule, i’m making this my lock screen.” jongin holds his phone up as steadily as he can while taemin is being entirely uncooperative, and when taemin reaches back in an attempt at covering himself up with his hands and does his best to ruin the shot, they’re quickly (and temporarily) slapped away. it isn’t quite enough to deter him, so jongin ends up having to grab onto them and pin them to the center of his back, but once they’re kept safely out of the frame he snaps a picture of taemin’s ass, thoroughly spanked and slapped pink -- it’s cut off above taemin’s waist, jongin’s own tan forearm just barely visible at the bottom of the image, and despite the loud displeased noise taemin makes jongin still takes his time deciding that he's satisfied with it. exiting his picture folder, he finds the button at the top of his phone to lock it, then tosses it onto the other side of the bed.  
  
“it was just two pictures,” taemin protests, feigning misery, and he pulls his arms from jongin’s grip as soon as it slackens, chin dropping to rest on the mattress again. for a moment he eyes jongin’s phone, possibly weighing the option of making a grab for it, but entirely unlikely as he is to get away with deleting the picture he just pulls himself off jongin’s lap to sit back on the bed. a slight wince crosses his face when sore skin makes contact with the sheets, and he reclines enough to put some of his weight on his hands instead.  
  
“where do you think you’re going?” jongin murmurs, bringing his legs up onto the bed, and he shifts to lean over and take taemin’s face in his hand, the other curling loosely around taemin’s hip. he puts his mouth to his jaw, then claims taemin’s lips in a kiss when he seeks jongin’s own this time, nipping at jongin’s bottom one. “lay back for me, yeah?” jongin says, and he brings his hand down from taemin’s hip to run it up the back of his thigh, over the marked up curve of his ass, only stilling when he feels taemin twitch in discomfort from how tender it is. his lip slips from between taemin’s teeth, and jongin pulls away to climb across the mattress, over to the edge of the bed.  
  
“take your shirt off, too,” jongin tells him, leaning forward on a folded knee as he reaches to pull out the bedside drawer. taemin lowers himself onto his back on the bed and lifts the hem of the shirt as he goes, and after stretching to pull it over his head, he cranes his neck a bit to watch jongin rifle through the contents of the drawer. unfortunately his line of sight is mostly obscured by jongin’s back, so his curiosity will have to remain unsated until he turns around, but he can hear the soft rattle of a thin chain link which makes it a rather easy guess what jongin has in mind for him.  
  
jongin jerks back slightly when taemin flings his shirt at him, but he lifts his hand just in time to catch it before it can hit him in the chest. shutting the drawer, what he drops on the mattress is the bottle of lube -- along with their two sets of white leather cuffs, a somewhat recent investment they made so they could replace their old ratty metal ones, complete with ridiculous fuzzy fake fur. taemin spreads his knees to let jongin sit between them, and jongin reaches to take one of taemin’s hands in his, thumbing the underside of his wrist before he goes ahead and slips the first cuff around it. he tightens it enough to keep taemin from escaping it while still leaving adequate room to fit a finger inside the cuff, and he raises his gaze to meet taemin’s before he weaves the chain through the headboard’s bars. taemin lifts his other arm above his head for jongin without having to be told, letting him close the second around his still free wrist, and it’s a sufficient indication that he’s comfortable for jongin to forgo asking.  
  
he runs a heavy hand from the top of taemin’s knee down to his calf when he moves to cuff his ankles together, and taemin tugs experimentally at the short chain between them once he’s done, pushing his legs up, nudging jongin’s arm with a foot. when jongin grabs ahold of it, taemin rolls his head to the side on the pillow and gives a nod towards the bedside table, swallowing, licking his lips and says, “you should gag me.”  
  
jongin watches him, letting taemin’s foot drop onto the bed. “yeah?”  
  
“yeah,” taemin echoes, a hint of something akin to eagerness in his eyes, and jongin is pretty sure few people are as happy about being gagged as taemin is -- it’d seem odd, maybe, but with something stuffed between his lips the noises taemin is self-conscious about making are quieter, and though jongin has let him know countless times just how sexy he finds every sound coming from his mouth, taemin still really likes it when they bring out the gag. so jongin shifts up onto his knees and finally pulls his damp t-shirt off, then leans across the mattress to reach back inside the bedside drawer for it. “alright.”  
  
it’s the _feeling_ of the gag between his lips that tends to be what turns taemin on, the inability to speak, having his mouth kept open wide and being helpless against the urge to close it, but he finds his pulse kicking up from arousal already; like this it’ll likely only take a few strokes to bring him back to full hardness once jongin touches him, and he lets his tongue slip out to wet his lips again while he’s still able to. shirtless and with the ball gag in one hand, jongin returns to where he’d been sitting previously in front of him, and he moves in to hover slightly over taemin as he cups his chin in the other.  
  
“open,” he says, and taemin’s mouth falls open obediently so jongin can push the rubber ball into place behind his teeth. he tilts his chin up and makes a soft noise as his lips close around it, but jongin grabs onto his jaw to tip his face back down while securing the straps. the finger he runs over taemin’s bottom lip when he’s finished is gentler, though, and he brushes some hair away from taemin’s cheek that’s become trapped under the strap.  
  
“good?” he asks, and taemin nods, head dropping back against the pillow so he can just watch jongin, waiting. if jongin’s cock hadn’t been pushing uncomfortably against the confines of his jeans already, the view would’ve been more than enough to do it -- taemin, naked and hard and submissive for him, cuffed to the bed with his pretty lips wrapped around a gag, allowing jongin to do whatever he happens to want with him -- and jongin reaches for his belt, undoing the buckle with unhurried hands. taemin’s gaze turns intense while he works open the top button on his pants and tugs the zipper down, but jongin just cocks his head back a bit while looking down at him, because he’s only really giving his dick some room and has no intention to take anything off.  
  
“don’t get your hopes up,” he says, to which taemin huffs through the gag in response and ends up almost choking a little on his own spit, swallowing and squeezing his eyes shut until the discomfort passes. he’s left with only a warm rush of embarrassment over it, though jongin doesn’t comment, just brings a hand down between taemin’s legs -- the breath taemin has just caught turns shallow again, goosebumps rising over his skin as jongin just lightly runs the tips of his fingers over the insides of his thighs, and his hips lift off the mattress, something like a plea. it gets him jongin’s fingers wrapped around his cock, and he gives it a lazy stroke, then leans to put his lips above taemin’s knee.  
  
he cups the back of taemin’s thigh, lifting and folding his leg, and the other is brought up off the mattress along with it thanks to the chain between the cuffs. the grip of jongin’s other hand tightens on his cock, and his strokes get more thorough -- taemin’s whole length doesn’t fit in his hand, despite jongin’s rather large palms, but it’s not overly thick and he fists it firmly from base to tip a few times before slowing with the head just barely poking through the circle of his index finger and thumb. the pad of the latter rubs a slow circular motion over it, across the slit, and taemin makes a muffled sound, exhaling heavily through his nose. he tries to push towards jongin’s hand, but jongin slowly lets go in favor of mouthing lower at taemin’s inner thigh, and after raising his leg a tad further, down the back of it just below the marks he’s left on taemin’s ass.  
  
jongin’s fingers are brought south as well, his thumb pressing against taemin’s balls, and he pushes with his hand enough to get at the stretch of skin below them. he dips his head down to kiss right there, making taemin twitch, then moves his lips even lower, and taemin moans high in his throat when jongin’s mouth closes over his entrance; the noise is barely stifled by the gag, and taemin’s brows knit, his hips shifting on the mattress until jongin stills them with the touch of a hand.  
  
“keep your legs up for me,” jongin says, and taemin makes a mildly strained sound, craned as he keeps his neck to be able to watch jongin between his thighs, but he half-nods in response as his tongue tentatively presses against the now wet rubber in his mouth. the chain of the cuffs clinks against the headboard whenever he moves his wrists, and once the hand jongin has supported his thigh with falls away, there’s a part of taemin that definitely wishes he could reach down and hold his knees up with his own -- to another part of him, however, there’s actually something appealing about that he _can’t_ , knowing his legs will tire much quicker yet that he won’t be allowed to put them down, and something as simple as getting to feel the stress on the muscles in them sounds almost arousing. jongin grabs his hips to reposition them, pulling him further down on the bed until he can bend taemin more easily at the waist, hitch his legs up higher, and taemin is initially unhappy about losing the support of the pillow underneath him and therefore the ability to see jongin properly, but he ends up just moaning behind the gag once he feels jongin lick firmly between his cheeks.  
  
he angles his head and kisses over taemin’s entrance, slippery and hot, and he wastes very little time before spreading taemin open with his hands and allowing the tip of his tongue to dip inside, teasing at the tight ring of muscle. taemin’s moan is high-pitched and breathy, and he only gets glimpses of messy hair and jongin’s brow softly furrowed in concentration, so he gives up on watching, instead letting his head fall onto the mattress; he’s careful to swallow down some saliva so he doesn’t choke on it again with how heavy his breath is becoming, and he resists the impulse to wiggle and squirm against jongin’s mouth with every deep push of his tongue, knowing full well that it’d probably just earn him a slap on an already sore asscheek.  
  
almost each sloppy kiss and lick pulls a muffled, breathless sound from taemin, and jongin is typically more patient, but he has to reach down with one hand into his jeans and palm himself through his underwear because fuck, that makes him _ache_.  
  
he sucks lightly at the skin just around taemin’s entrance, lip dragging across it when he lets go, and taemin pants behind the gag as he momentarily forgets to breathe only through his nose -- it has a drop of spit trickling from his mouth where his lips can’t close around it, and taemin tries to reach to wipe it off against his upper arm, but the bars of the headboard put a near harsh stop to his movements when he has to pull too much against the cuffs. a few especially firm and fast flicks of jongin’s tongue has taemin’s head dropping back with a throaty whimper instead, and he decides to leave the mess of spit on his chin and cheek, even though his face flushes hot from the embarrassing feeling.  
  
once jongin withdraws and sits up, the loss of contact is both disappointing and a bit of a relief to taemin as he’s finally able to calm his breathing. it occurs to him pretty quickly that jongin is just taking a moment to stare between his spread thighs, though, and the position he’s in leaves him particularly exposed; the sense of vulnerability makes taemin tense and shiver, but there’s always something about the way jongin looks at him that makes him feel surprisingly bold. he doesn’t think he’s ever seen quite as much _want_ in anyone else’s eyes, and he tries to arch towards jongin’s finger when the tip of one is rubbed over his slick entrance. he doesn’t manage more than a tilt of his hips with his legs raised, so he just makes a quiet noise through the gag and attempts to catch jongin’s gaze.  
  
“look at you,” jongin murmurs while stroking lightly between taemin’s cheeks, mostly spreading his own spit around, and there’s a slight curve to his mouth as he both feels and watches taemin tighten up under his touch. “so fucking pretty.”  
  
his legs are starting to get a little stiff, but taemin lets them fall further apart, testing what the cuffs will comfortably allow, and jongin places a kiss to the side of his foot in appreciation. “show me your cute little ass, go on.” his voice comes out a bit rough, and he rubs more firmly with his finger, putting pressure against taemin’s entrance until it can just barely begin to slip in. taemin opens up easily for it, and he’s flexible enough to bring his knees closer to his chest, keeping his eyes on jongin as he does despite the temptation to avert them, and it earns him a close-lipped grin of approval from his boyfriend. “yeah, like that.”  
  
taemin swallows and lifts his head a bit, eyeing him expectantly, but just as he thinks jongin is about to stop his teasing and actually push his finger inside him he pulls his hand away again, instead reaching for the lube he abandoned on the mattress earlier. taemin’s frustrated sound is loud enough to have jongin give a chuckle under his breath and shake his head as he flips the bottle over in his hand, opening the cap.  
  
“patience really isn’t your strong suit,” he comments, and with a generous amount of lube on his finger he brings it back down between taemin’s cheeks, slicking up his entrance thoroughly -- taemin’s noise of protest is barely audible, but the set of his brow says enough, only smoothening out when jongin coats his fingers and finally, although slowly, slides the first inside him. taemin takes a quiet steadying breath, muscles involuntarily clenching down around it before relaxing; initially it’s always a rather rough push, but he ends up moaning on the exhale once jongin’s finger turns and crooks inside him.  
  
it’s carefully wiggled, testing the resistance, then eased halfway out of taemin to only stimulate his entrance, the first inch of it just pushing and twisting leisurely to loosen him up. jongin watches the shallow slide of it and how his finger disappears into taemin, the wet pink rim hugging his index tight yet easily accepting it when jongin works it past, and a moan catches in taemin’s throat, legs spreading until the short chain between his ankles is pulled taut.  
  
he cants his hips when jongin lets it slip in knuckle-deep, and in response to that jongin gives a few sudden short pushes without withdrawing his finger much, just fucking taemin near roughly with the digit until he gets a breathy whine from him. taemin’s thighs tense, pulled shut for a quick moment, but once the movements slow and jongin settles for longer, gentler strokes he makes an unintelligible sound through the gag and ends up trying for another tilt of his hips, attempting to rock down onto his hand.  
  
“you turn into such a slut the second you get something in your ass,” jongin says, and taemin moans softly in reply, a noise that almost becomes a low mewl when the tip of jongin’s middle finger nudges and starts to push where he’s stretched around his index. it’s carefully worked in beside it, and taemin’s breath hitches from the slight discomfort, but as soon as it’s inside him to the first knuckle it’s easy to relax to accommodate the added finger; jongin’s thumb rubs across his entrance once they’ve both slid in to the second, silent reassurance. “you’re a bit of a slut, taemin, aren’t you?”  
  
heat floods taemin’s cheeks, but he nods somewhat jerkily, just once. jongin withdraws his fingers until just the tips hold him open, then steadily slides them all the way back in, and the drag of them inside him makes taemin moan breathlessly, a tad higher in pitch and louder -- he watches jongin’s gaze grow heavier and more intense before he lets his head fall back on the mattress, but even after their eye-contact is broken jongin still doesn’t look away from his face, carefully attentive to taemin’s reactions.  
  
“yeah. but just for me.” the two fingers curl, as deep inside taemin as they’ll go and with the heel of jongin’s hand pressing lightly at his balls, and taemin’s exhale turns into a deep whine when they brush over his prostate. his muscles clench tight around jongin’s knuckles at the jolt of pleasure, and jongin pulls his fingers back a scant inch, then pushes them into him from a lower angle, adjusting it and searching with the tips of them until taemin clamps down around the digits a second time. “this slut is all mine, isn’t that right?”  
  
jongin’s forearm flexes as he turns his hand, then starts fucking his fingers into taemin in earnest, and taemin breathes shallowly through his nose, another whine building in his throat as they rub repeatedly against and across his prostate. he tries to give jongin a _yes_ in response through the gag which comes out wet and muffled, yet it’s comprehensible enough to be satisfactory; the corner of jongin’s mouth curves upwards, and his free hand is brought to taemin’s thigh, then dropped lower to wrap around his cock and squeeze without stroking. his fingers part all the way inside to stretch taemin further, and taemin jerks from the slight burn of it before panting out a quiet moan, eyes fluttering shut.  
  
they crack open again after a couple of seconds to meet jongin’s between his parted legs. spit is leaking from his lips as he hasn’t kept them tightly closed around the rubber ball, drops of it crawling low on his chin -- he _feels_ slutty, dirty, but fuck if that doesn’t make heat coil in his belly despite his embarrassed flush, and he’s so hard in jongin’s hand it’s almost beginning to hurt, eager for the proper stimulation jongin isn’t granting him. he gives jongin a look he tries to make encouraging rather than flat out needy, and jongin shifts to lean forward, leaving taemin’s dick untouched once more to wipe the saliva from his cheek and around his mouth with the backs of his fingers. he doesn’t stop moving the ones inside him, still sliding them firm and deep, and taemin makes a throaty _mmmh_ noise as his toes curl; the ache in his legs is spreading through his muscles, from his thighs to his calves, but he keeps them above the bed still as it’s not quite bad enough to make him want to set them down.  
  
watching taemin pant softly through the gag with his face flushed, eyes hooded and pupils blown, jongin gradually slows the push and pull of his index and middle to let his ring finger circle his entrance. taemin doesn’t show any signs of protest; he just waits and relaxes as much as he’s able for him, so jongin pushes until the resistance gives, slowly easing the third finger into the tight heat of taemin’s body. taemin takes it well, and even though he makes no sound that’d indicate pain jongin keeps his hand still until he’s sure he’s adjusted to the wider stretch.  
  
it’s an impatient shift from taemin that urges jongin to go ahead and move them, and he works the fingers into taemin in short but quick pushes because of the tight fit, spreading them apart to open him up properly. taemin’s moan is cut off as he has to swallow, followed by strained little breaths he reminds himself to take through his nose, and his cock has left his skin sticky with precome where it rests against his stomach -- jongin brings his unoccupied hand down to taemin’s abdomen, and his palm lays flat against it for a second or two before his fingers find taemin’s length to curl around it again. the chain between the cuffs attached to the headboard rattles quietly when taemin unsteadily tries to arch into the touch, and jongin rewards him with the firm, full strokes he was denied earlier, turning his wrist to get a better grip. he can feel taemin’s cock pulse in his hand, flushed dark pink and wet at the tip, and taemin’s exhale turns hitchy when jongin lowers his head to put his lips to the side of it.  
  
he licks his way up the shaft, then closes his lips over the crown to give it a slow suck, and just that makes taemin clench down on his fingers and sends a small shudder through his body. as worked up as jongin already has him, he won’t waste time teasing taemin further; he wets his lips and makes sure to gather sufficient spit on his tongue, then presses it to the tip of taemin’s cock and takes the first inch of it into his mouth with little to no preamble. he breathes out through his nose and tongues the ridge beneath the head, opening wider, and the noise he gets from taemin at that is another near mewl.  
  
divided as his concentration is between keeping his fingers moving inside taemin and getting his mouth around his cock, he’s clumsier than he’d typically be when sliding down on him, and even as jongin is mindful of his teeth they scrape lightly over taemin’s shaft -- the muscle in taemin’s thigh jerks, but he still moans throatily just from the slippery warmth surrounding him, letting his knees fall open to give jongin more room between them. his technique may be less refined than taemin’s own, though the rhythm he sets is steady, thick lips wrapped tight around taemin’s length while he fucks him with his fingers at a pace he matches pretty well with the wet slide of his mouth.  
  
he won’t quite be able to take all of taemin, not during a half-messy blowjob he gives while fingering him, so jongin’s left hand returns to encircle what his lips don’t reach, giving the base a slow squeeze; he pulls himself halfway off of taemin’s cock to swallow him down again with every third or fourth deep push of his fingers inside him, and the stimulation from both jongin’s mouth on his cock and three of his fingers in his ass has taemin throwing his head back and whining through the gag, panting heavily. they successfully get the angle right and bump his prostate on nearly every other stroke, easy when any more than two get taemin so full, and taemin tries not to whimper from it, toes curling and uncurling.  
  
his head rolls restlessly below the pillow as jongin’s lips sink down especially far on him, and he does what he can to keep his orgasm from building too fast while waiting for jongin to decide that he’s done, ready to fuck him and to let him come. it’s with a growing sense of urgency that he watches the focused knit of jongin’s brows, his lowered gaze when he’s not throwing the occasional quick glance up at taemin’s face, and he tries to speak behind the gag to get jongin’s attention, say his name and something like _more_ and _please_ \-- though jongin can’t make out a coherent word his pleading tone still comes across more than clear enough, and he knows very well what taemin wants and believes jongin will cave and give to him. he lifts his eyes to meet taemin’s as he slowly lets his cock slip out of his mouth, and taemin exhales quickly and shakily through his nose, expression as close to wordless begging he can manage.  
  
“three fingers aren’t even enough for you,” jongin says, voice a little raspy before he swallows to clear his throat some, and he gives taemin’s spit-slick shaft a few languid strokes with the hand he’s kept wrapped around it. taemin’s chest rises and falls rapidly even though he tries to slow his breathing, and he makes a soft noise in agreement, torn between which of jongin’s hands to push towards and ending up only squirming helplessly in place. “nothing’s gonna do the trick but my cock, right? that’s what you want. you want it to fill you up like my fingers can’t, really fuck you open.”  
  
taemin’s whine in response this time is short and breathless, and he nods, thin brows furrowing into a pleading look as he meets jongin’s stare. his chin is just as wet with drool again by now, and while no less humiliating he’s beyond caring at this point, as long as jongin likes what he sees -- he knows jongin is fond of how he looks like this, a pretty mess, and perhaps that’s enough to let taemin feel hot as opposed to borderline disgusting.  
  
“but you can’t have it. you’re going to come like this, just from my fingers in your ass and my mouth on your dick.” jongin’s hand speeds up a bit on taemin’s cock, jerking him faster with the intention of bringing him closer to the edge, and taemin’s protest is loud and desperate but still goes ignored entirely for the most part -- jongin only shakes his head at the unhappy sounds taemin makes behind the rubber ball and the look he’s given, pressing his tongue to the front of his teeth. “don’t try that with me, it’s not going to work.”  
  
taemin whines again in something like defeat, quieter, and jongin can’t say he wouldn’t like to give in, that he isn’t tempted to change his mind right then and just go ahead and enter taemin. he wants to bury himself inside him to the hilt and fuck him until he’s begging to come, the thought of it has his cock throbbing distractingly between his legs, but taemin earned himself a punishment jongin intends to stay true to his word and deliver in full. a bit of lube is dripping from his fingers to stain the bedclothes, though he really pays that no mind, just angles his hand and fucks them a tad rougher and even deeper into taemin with each push until he’s holding back to keep from crying out.  
  
“i know you’re close, come on,” he urges, voice lower than before, and taemin makes a muffled noise that sounds like jongin’s name, the furrow of his eyebrows softening. his feet are finally lowered enough to be set down on the bed, and jongin allows them to without a glance or word, just leans over the chain at taemin’s ankles and traps it there as his head dips so he can reach to mouth at his balls. it makes taemin’s hips jerk, and his hands yank lightly at their restraints as he tries to shift closer to jongin, further down on the mattress if no more than a couple of centimeters.  
  
jongin can tell when taemin is about to come even before taemin attempts to speak through the gag to warn him, knows taemin’s body too well not to -- his muscles tighten around his knuckles, his moans are pulled from particularly high in his throat between hitchy puffs of breath, and there’s an unsteady shake to his thigh when his hips lift off the mattress to push his cock into jongin’s grip. he wraps his lips around the head of it again while still stroking taemin quickly, hand twisting down and up to meet his mouth, and when he feels taemin’s body quiver as he’s pushed to the very edge jongin takes him deeper, pressing his tongue firmly to what he can reach of his shaft.  
  
as his orgasm hits him taemin almost keens through the gag, eyes clenching shut and hips grinding down into the mattress despite the marks across the cheeks of his ass, and jongin closes his lips tight around his cock to keep any of it from dripping past his mouth when taemin comes in warm, thin spurts in it. taemin shudders and moans shakily, jaw clenching and toes digging into the sheets, and jongin feels him twitch on the back of his tongue, but he wills down his gag reflex long enough to be sure he’s caught all of taemin’s come before he slowly pulls up and off. his lips drag over taemin’s oversensitive length, making taemin suck in a shaky breath, and he watches jongin expectantly while quietly panting when he begins to sit up.  
  
the taste isn’t bad, jongin doesn’t mind it -- the slight bitterness of it starts to get more noticeable when kept in his mouth too long, though, so he’s about to swallow, but meeting taemin’s gaze over his raised knees he has a much better idea than that. he gathers the come on his tongue behind his teeth, then reaches over to run his hand up the back of taemin’s neck, into his hair, searching for the clasp on the gag. it takes a bit of fumbling for jongin to get it undone once he finds it, but the rubber ball pops out wetly from taemin’s mouth when the straps come loose, a string of spit catching on his chin. for the sake of his jaw he’s relieved to be rid of it, and his lips are slightly sore from the stretch he’s not quite used to yet, but jongin barely wastes a moment before leaning to capture them in a kiss that’s nearly rough.  
  
taemin makes a small noise of surprise when jongin’s tongue just firmly slides up against his lips, past them, prying them apart and pushing the thick glob of come and saliva into his mouth. for a couple of seconds he remains unmoving, as though he’s not sure how to react, but then he moans deep in his throat, brows furrowing as he opens up further for jongin’s tongue; he sucks lightly on it, swallowing down what’s being passed to him, and when barely more than the lingering taste is left clinging to the back of jongin’s mouth he breaks the kiss slowly to just hover above taemin. their breaths mingle and noses brush when jongin shifts, and he wipes his lube-slick fingers off on the already messy sheets, then grabs onto taemin’s chin with that hand to keep his jaw slack. the last bit of taemin’s come is pushed to the very front of his mouth, and taemin’s cheeks burn hot as jongin lets that, along with a large amount of spit, spill over his bottom lip and drip down into his waiting mouth.  
  
“such a good boy,” jongin murmurs appreciatively, watching taemin dutifully swallow that too once he allows his lips to close. he tosses the ball gag aside on the mattress and gives the bottle of lube a light kick with the side of his foot, getting it out of the way, and when he’s about to lift himself off of him taemin leans up to kiss him again, despite the strain it puts on his cuffed wrists. jongin’s body turns momentarily heavy on top of him again as he returns it, grinning a bit into it, and while taemin is licking the remnants of his own come out of his mouth he hears the clink of jongin’s belt and the rustle of thick denim as he works his jeans down his thighs.  
  
“blowjob?” taemin asks, almost hopeful as jongin tugs the elastic of his underwear down far enough to be able to get his cock out, and he looks at taemin while gripping himself and stroking, rising onto his knees on the mattress. “yeah, you’re returning the favor.”  
  
taemin moves his wrists inside the cuffs, eyeing jongin as he gets up to throw a jean-clad leg over his chest, moving to straddle it, and he patiently decides against lifting his head to put his tongue to the tip even when that gets him jongin’s dick within reach. jongin runs his fingers through his bangs to get them out of his eyes, then lets his hand drop to the top bar of the headboard, and after shifting forward above him he guides his cock right to taemin’s lips. he rubs the head unceremoniously over the seam of them, letting it catch on the bottom one and drag casually across his upper chin where it’s slippery with spit.  
  
taemin’s lashes flutter, and his tongue slips out to lap at it, underneath and over the crown. jongin exhales, letting him lick the tip clean from the slight wetness that’s gathered there, then nudges and pushes until taemin’s mouth falls open -- taemin is a bit lazily sluggish still from his orgasm, but he leans up to take him in further, lips wrapping around jongin’s length and just sloppily dragging over it as he can’t properly bob his head. he presses his tongue flat to the underside of it, then sucks lightly, and the sound that pulls from jongin is a low, quiet grunt, the loose curl of his fingers at the headboard turning and tightening.  
  
he lets his hips push steadily, watching his cock sink deeper into taemin’s hot wet mouth, and the hand around the base of his shaft falls away to cup taemin’s cheek instead. taemin’s throat closes up and he gags, making jongin moan at the sudden sensation of it, but after a couple seconds of hard blinking and a few steadying breaths through his nose taemin swallows and sucks, jaw slackening. knowing how much jongin appreciates the view he lifts his gaze to meet jongin’s, hollowing his cheeks, and jongin bites back a curse as he thumbs taemin’s cheekbone, mouth hanging just slightly open with how heavy his breathing is getting.  
  
“didn’t you say i should fuck your face?” jongin asks, but it isn’t really a question, both given what it is he’s already planning to do and that taemin is unable to respond with any more than a soft muffled noise with his mouth full of cock -- he just turns pliant and lets his mouth drop open wider to welcome it when jongin rolls his hips forward, carefully at first and then firmly when he’s certain taemin can take it, and taemin’s eyes water as his throat protests, but he moans breathily around it regardless. he stares up at jongin through half-lidded and glossy eyes as he closes his lips around the base of his cock to suck, and jongin groans both from the feeling and the way taemin looks like that, hand sliding down to settle under his jaw.  
  
taemin chokes when he pushes too deep, so jongin lets him breathe and brace himself some before he gives another shove of his hips, even though part of him is decently sure taemin does it intentionally to get him hot -- the quiet little gagging noises he makes and the way his throat constricts around the head of his cock has jongin throbbing in his mouth, and he inhales sharply, then moans as taemin works his muscles to swallow around him. he resists closing his eyes in favor of watching the slide of his cock between taemin’s red lips, the pretty stretch of them around his shaft, and taemin accepts each near harsh thrust into his mouth with no more than a short throaty noise.  
  
his lips hug jongin’s cock sloppily, tongue tentatively touching the vein running along the underside, and jongin can feel his balls tightening already with how long he’s been near frustratingly hard; he has no reason to hold back, just fucks taemin’s mouth with the purpose of reaching his nearing climax, slowly withdrawing to thrust back in at steady pace as he lets it build uninhibited. even when he gags on jongin’s cock taemin still bobs his head as much as he’s able to, trying to match jongin’s movements with whatever rhythm he sets, and he can feel distracting tears cling to his lower eyelashes, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to stop or that any part of him really wants jongin to.  
  
jongin would reach to wipe them away for taemin before they can really drip from his eyes, but he’d have to slow down for that, even still his hips. he’s too close to do either without disrupting the build-up of his orgasm, so it’s only when they begin to trickle down the side of taemin’s face that he lets go of the headboard to remove them with a light brush of his knuckles. taemin blinks up at him, breathing raggedly through his nose, and jongin lets his fingers comb through and tangle in a fistful of his hair, holding onto it without pulling.  
  
“you’re doing so good, baby,” he says, eyes falling shut for a few seconds and breath hitching, and taemin moans around him in reply, leaning up to get him particularly deep when his hips rock forward. he’s purposefully trying to bring jongin closer to the edge, coax his climax out, and he knows far too well just how to do that for the effort not to be effective -- heat collects low in jongin’s belly, and taemin pulls a deep moan from him by swallowing him down so far he nearly gets his nose buried in the thatch of short hair above jongin’s dick.  
  
he keeps his hips moving past the point when his thrusts start to become uneven, fucking into taemin’s mouth until he feels nearly ready to come -- that’s when jongin pulls back, cock sliding all the way out of taemin’s mouth so he can take it in his hand instead, and taemin makes a hoarse, confused noise at the sudden interruption. he’d expected jongin to come in his mouth, getting to swallow for him, but watching jongin curl his fingers tight around his shaft and stroke himself taemin catches on fast, putting his head back on the mattress and sliding down a bit to get closer.  
  
jongin breathes hard, bringing himself off with quick flicks of his wrist, and taemin stares up at him the whole time, waiting, lips slightly parted and lids heavy. only when the first spurt of come hits taemin’s cheek do his eyes close, and jongin groans low in his throat as his orgasm washes over him, jerking himself fast through the quite intense shocks of it -- he aims for the most part at the lower half of taemin’s face, but thick ropes of his come end up splattering across taemin’s chin, mouth and over the bridge of his nose, as well as one of his eyelids, some of it clinging to his lashes.  
  
as jongin shifts to sit back, making sure not to put any of his weight on taemin’s chest, taemin looks up at him again, blinking carefully because of the come stuck to his eyelashes and letting his tongue peek out to lick some of the stickiness away from his lips. jongin is pretty pleased with how taemin looks covered in it, and when his heart rate has slowed down his glance is drawn towards his phone on the other side of the bed -- taemin follows his line of sight and knows what he’s thinking before he moves, but he doesn’t protest this time with more than a quiet embarrassed huff of breath when jongin makes the decision to stretch across the mattress for it, then loads up the camera app.  
  
“look at me, babe,” he says, tilting taemin’s chin up with the tips of two fingers and leaning back a little to fit more of him within the frame. taemin is initially reluctant to lift his gaze, but he ends up pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in the shot, looking into the camera for jongin until he taps the screen to snap the picture and lowers his phone. there are few ways that jongin doesn’t have a photo of taemin in already, saved in folders on his laptop and on his phone; taemin does enjoy it whenever jongin gets the idea to take those intimate and entirely private ones, despite the risk involved and his tendency to sometimes act solely embarrassed about them, so he’s not really about to question why he needs another.  
  
“good?” he asks as jongin is inspecting the image, mostly to make sure the photo session is over and done. his face is heating up and his throat feels dry, though if that’s from having his picture taken after receiving a facial or choking on jongin’s cock he’s not entirely sure.  
  
“very.” the phone is dropped on the bed again once locked, and jongin slowly gets off of taemin, tucking himself into his underwear and working his jeans back up before he leans to undo the cuffs around taemin’s wrists. taemin pushes himself upright once his hands are free, rolling his shoulders to get the stiffness out of them after keeping his arms in the same position for too long, and he’d get the pair at his ankles himself, but jongin moves to do it before taemin gets the chance to reach down.  
  
both sets of cuffs are put back into the bedside drawer, and when jongin sits back down in front of him on the bed taemin runs his fingers messily through jongin’s sweaty bangs. jongin brings his hand up to carefully clean the come from taemin’s lashes with his fingertip, which taemin stays still to allow, then cups jongin’s face to tug his head down so he can give him a slightly sticky kiss.

 

-

  
  
jongin is digging through taemin’s mess of a closet for a shirt when taemin comes out of the bathroom, face clean and boxers back on, ball gag rinsed off, and he can see out of the corner of his eye when taemin plops down on the bed (wincing, once he receives a rather painful reminder of the state of the cheeks of his ass) and eyes his phone, then picks it up. he knows jongin’s pass code, which he taps in after a moment of hesitation and gets right on the first try, so that doesn’t stop him from accessing anything on it the way it would anybody else.  
  
“that’s not your phone,” jongin says, pulling the t-shirt he’s found over his head as he walks over, and he picks taemin’s sweatpants up off the floor to drop them on taemin’s lap.  
  
“i’m ordering chicken,” taemin tells him without looking up from the display, barely making a move when jongin gets on the bed beside him, and jongin holds back a snort even though it’s more of a rare occurrence when taemin _isn’t_ craving food after sex.  
  
“you won’t find the phone number stored on the camera roll,” he says dryly, holding his hand out, but taemin angles the phone away from him to buy himself time to finish what jongin knows he’s doing by now, searching through folders for the pictures jongin took earlier. “give it to me. _taemin_ \--” taemin is about to leap to his feet, probably to wander off the living room with jongin’s phone, but jongin grabs onto his arm before he can get off the bed and yanks him back down, ending up halfway on top of him when snatching the device back while taemin tries (although quite uselessly) to keep it out of his reach.  
  
he’s located the photo of his come-stained face, but it’s not one taemin seems to have cared enough to delete; he’s just opened the full-size for a look at it. jongin indicates the picture on the screen as he says, “i should’ve let you get the door and greet the delivery guy like that.”  
  
taemin’s mouth twists, corners of it curving, but all he gives in lieu of a response is, “you should pay.”  
  
jongin scrolls through his recently made calls, looking for the number to the takeout place a few blocks away that he and taemin typically order their chicken from. they’re something like regulars at this point, so jongin has memorized the first few digits of it -- no need to save it to his contacts, really. “why’s that?”  
  
“i’ll have to eat mine lying down,” taemin tells him, sticking his feet into his sweatpants to put them on, and seeing jongin touch the screen to initiate the call and put the phone to his ear he adds, “get the usual.”  
  
“and whose fault is that?” jongin points out, leaning back a bit on the bed, watching taemin slide off the mattress and stand to be able to pull the sweats up. he’s fine with it being his treat tonight, they pay about equally often and neither care particularly much about whose turn it is, but taemin is to blame for his own current predicament -- that doesn’t earn him any chicken.  
  
“take pity on me,” taemin says, tying the drawstrings on his pants tight, but jongin just runs a casual hand up the back of taemin’s thigh until he feels the muscle tense under his palm as he waits for a member of the restaurant’s staff to pick up.


End file.
